


Half of a Whole

by DJToby



Category: Amazingphil - Fandom, Danisnotonfire - Fandom, Phan, dan and phil
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:59:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5261561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DJToby/pseuds/DJToby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil gets in a car crash and Dan is in disbelief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Half of a Whole

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING! Death, depression, mourning, swearing mentions.

“Morning, love,” I say as I give Phil a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Morning,” he says in a singsong voice. He pours coffee into a mug and reaches for creamer.

“Got anything planned for today?” he asks, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Not really,” I respond, pouring my own mug of coffee. “Probably going to edit a video, maybe go on Tumblr.”

“Well, I need to run some errands, I need new jeans, maybe pick up that shirt we saw, and I need to get something for dinner tonight.”

I begin making porridge, and Phil pours his cereal into a bowl.

“What did you dream about?” he asks after we both have our breakfasts ready. “Anything interesting?”

I shrug. “Don’t remember. I feel like it was about something happy, though.”

“I dreamt that YouTube e-mailed me asking if my refrigerator was running,” he says with a shrug. “I think I had too much sugar yesterday.”

We walk to the lounge together, and I sit on the couch while he sits on the floor. He grabs his laptop from the coffee table and I do the same, assuming a comfortable position where I can shovel food in my mouth and lay down at the same time.

“Lots of people liked your ‘husky, sensual voice’ comment,” Phil chuckles. “The Phan tag on Tumblr is blowing up with it.”

“I found a photoshopped picture of me holding a baby,” I respond with a mouthful of porridge.

Phil smiles. “I saw that too. You know maybe we could actually take a picture with a REAL baby one day.”

“You mean adopt?”

He nods. “One day.”

“That day is a long way off, love.”

I return to checking Twitter and Tumblr, but not five minutes later, Phil is looking at me, resting his head in his hands and grinning.

“What?” I chuckle.

He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

“Stop staring at me!”

“I can’t.”

I laugh and finish my porridge. He takes our dishes and walks to the kitchen to put them in the dishwasher.

He comes back, and pulls me off the couch.

“Phil, what-”

“Dance with me.”

He clicks on a tab on his laptop. It’s on YouTube, and it’s on “Thinking Out Loud” by Ed Sheeran.

“Oh, God, Phil, even this is making my inner phangirl scream.”

He laughs and plays the video. As the music starts, he pulls me close to him and sways in time to the song.

“Remember when we first danced to this?” he says, and gazes at our clasped hands, rubbing his thumb over my hand.

“Yeah, and everyone watching saw us.”

“So?”

We dance more until the part everyone saw us dancing comes up. We both know that we want to reenact it, so I extend my arm out and he twirls away then twirls back toward me, extending one of his arms out. Instead of pulling away from me and showing the camera that it was comedic and not romantic, he returns to dancing close to me, and he presses his lips to mine, and we savor the romantic moment until the song turns off.

He pulls away. “I’m going to go get ready.”

I hear the shower turn on. He takes twenty minutes to emerge from the bathroom with his hair dried and styled, a teal button-up shirt and black jeans on.

“I’m heading out,” he says and grabs his wallet.

I stand up to give him a kiss.

“Bye! Love you!” I call as he closes the door.

“Love you too!”

~

My phone rings as I’m putting away the bread for the sandwich I made for lunch. It’s Phil.

“Hey, babe,” I answer.

“Hey, love,” he responds. “Just wanted to see how things are back home.”

“Things are okay.”

“Great. Well I got the shirt, a couple pairs of jeans, and I’m bringing home stuff for stir fried chicken. What are you doing?”

“Well, I just made myself a sandwich,” I reply. “What are you doing?”

“I’m in a taxi, on my way ho-” Phil starts, but a horrible, loud sound of crashing and yelling interrupts Phil, making me drop my phone.

I pick it up, but the call has dropped.

“PHIL?!” I yell. “PHIL! FUCKING…”

I redial his number, but it goes straight to voicemail. I stare in disbelief at my phone, fearing the worst.

“Phil?! Phil, if you’re there, please, please, pick up!” I say the message over and over until I finally hang up.

“Fucking…shit…fuck!” I say to myself. “Phil…fucking Christ. No, he’s okay. He has to be. If it was a car crash, it should have been a minor one. Maybe he’ll escape with a broken bone at the worst…”

I slump down on the couch, my face in my hands. A few moments later, my phone rings. I scramble to pick it up, and it’s an unknown number.

“Hello?!” I say, a bit too excitedly.

“Hello, is this Daniel Howell?” an unfamiliar voice answers.

“Yes, it is.”

“Well, we regret to inform you that Philip Lester has been in a car accident,” the person says. “And he is in critical condition.”

My heart sinks.

“He is being taken to the nearest hospital at this moment,” the person continues.

“Okay, what hospital is it?”

They give me the name of the hospital, and I say goodbye and hang up.

“Fucking Christ,” I mutter and pull on the nearest jacket, heading out the door.

Once I’m in the elevator, worry floods my mind, and I can’t stop thinking about Phil.

~

“Mr. Howell,” a doctor greets me in the waiting room.

“Yes?” I lift my head up from my hands.

“Please follow me,” he instructs, and leads me down a quiet hallway where only a few people are.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Howell,” he says in a hushed tone. “But I regret to inform you…that Mr. Lester has passed away a few minutes ago.”

I try my hardest to not fucking lose it.

He notices that I won’t speak, so he continues with a deep breath. “We tried everything we could to help him, but the damage had already been done.”

I struggle to talk. I can’t fucking believe it.

“This…this…no. This can’t be happening.”

“I know how you are feeling, Mr. Howell,” he says and puts a hand on my shoulder. “But it is best for you to go home right now.”

I speed walk out of the hospital and get a taxi. During the whole ride, I stare blankly into space, in shock and disbelief that my best friend and boyfriend is gone.

~

As soon as the door shuts, I break down.

“GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!” I throw my keys down on the coffee table and flop down on the couch.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! FUCK YOU!” I assume I’m yelling at the person who caused the crash.

“FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!” I hit a pillow repeatedly, and I’m pretty sure my neighbors are going to complain.

“FUCK! Fuck you…” I sob into the pillow. Within minutes, it’s stained with my tears.

I lift my head up from the pillow and walk to the nearest mirror. I’m a mess. My eyes are red and puffy, my skin is pink. My hair is messy and snot drips out of my nose. I wipe it away quickly and walk to my room, flopping down on the bed and falling asleep instantly.

~

The funeral is held four days later, strictly a family only event. I wear the blackest clothes I could find. Phil’s family mourns more than mine, who try their hardest to comfort me.

All of our YouTube friends already had been told what happened, but none of our viewers have. I plan to tell them in a video after the funeral.

The service drags on, people who wrote eulogies recite them. An orchestra of blowing noses and sobs surround me until it is my turn to recite my own eulogy.

All eyes are on me as I walk to the podium, a small paper in hand with words that would tell me what to talk about. Beside me, Phil rests in his coffin, sectioned off from the crowd, in a suit and his promise ring. He looks so peaceful, but the sight makes me tear up.

As I deliver my eulogy, I talk about everything major that happened in the six years we had known each other. How we met, our YouTube careers, our radio show, our Brit Awards hosting, our book that hasn’t come out yet, our exchanging of promise rings. Through the whole thing, I have tears in my eyes.

“And he was such an amazing man, no one on this earth could have ever replaced him,” I begin to conclude. “He should not have died so early, he had so many things in his life ahead of him…”

I have to stop because I am crying. I conclude quickly and step down into my seat beside my parents, who comfort me silently.

~

I sit in my room trying to calm down before filming, my clothes from the funeral still on.

I turn on the camera and start immediately because I don’t think I should edit this.

“Hello, internet,” I ditch my finger-salute. “So, these past few days have been pretty hard on me and my friends and family.” I pause to take a deep but shaky breath and wipe my eyes.

“But I am extremely sorry to say that Phil has left us,” I don’t try to sugar-coat anything. “About four days ago, he was in a serious car accident that ended his life.”

I pause to bury my face in my palm, sobbing quietly.

“And, I feel like I speak for everyone when I say that I miss him. I miss him so fucking much. He never could have deserved this. I fucking loved him so much…” I cry into my hands.

“And before you ask anything, yes…Phan is…was…real.” I conclude and switch off the camera at that moment.

I cry for several minutes before I am compelled to walk into Phil’s room and flop down onto his bed which still smells like him. I cry uncontrollably for what seems like forever before I have a headache.  
I walk to his drawers and open them. Clothes spill out, and I clutch them to my chest and let tears pour out from my eyes. I look around his room, it is just how he left it the day he left me forever. His decorations are in their places and his bed is made.

Lion rests on his dresser, and I pick him up, hugging him to my chest. I lay back down in Phil’s bed and snuggle into it, falling asleep in my suit, promising myself to upload the video tomorrow.


End file.
